I Don't Need Working Eyes To See How Wonderful You Are
by mooksie01
Summary: A Platonic Merome Fanfic: After being bullied all his life for his color blindness, Jerome just wants someone to treat him like a human being.


**A/N: I'm very much aware that Mitch moved to Jerome's school in fourth grade, but I got the idea that nine and ten year olds wouldn't be swearing like that :)**

**I Don't Need Working Eyes to See How Wonderful You Are**

A Merome Fanfic

It wasn't like Jerome had asked for the monochromatic world he lived in, it was just the hand he was dealt. But then here he was again, staring up at yet another kid who seemed to think that it was his fault that he couldn't distinguish easily between red and green.

Jerome Aceti was fifteen; he had been born with Monochromacy, so he had never been able to see the colors blue or red or yellow, and other children seemed to take that as a sign of stupidity on his part. Really, he should be used to this by now; it happened every day after all. Unfortunately he still wasn't used to it, still wasn't able to come to terms with the fact that people would be so quick to tease someone who was different, especially when they couldn't control those differences; when they never had a choice in the matter.

"Pay attention to me, Bitch."

Jerome looked up. Oh yes, how could he have forgotten? He was about to get his daily beating from Asshole #5. Jerome glared viciously up at the other boy who was currently towering over him. "Sorry, I was busy paying attention to Mr. Chase behind you… personally I think he's much more threatening."

Jerome watched as the boy's eyes widened, and as he whipped around to attempt to explain himself to a teacher that had never been there to begin with, Jerome jerked out of his grip and raced down the hallway.

"Wait a minute… Get back here, Freak, I'm not done with you yet!"

Jerome's breath caught in his throat as he came face to face with a dead-end. _Shit._

"Trapped now, aren't you? Bet you wish you'd just taken what was coming to you… Now it's going to be so much worse…"

'_Great job, genius,_' Jerome thought bitterly, _'Not only have you pissed him off, you've also managed to get yourself caught in a dead-end with the bear you've poked.'_

Jerome backed up until his back hit the wall behind him. He tried to keep his mask of indifference up as the bully closed in, fist pulled back threateningly. Then all of a sudden the fist was flying towards his face and Jerome closed his eyes, bringing his arms up to try to protect himself against the blow that was about to come... Except it never came.

Jerome hesitantly opened his eyes, half expecting to be punched in the face at any moment. Through his crossed arms he saw a boy about an inch shorter than him, standing in front of Jerome protectively, as if he cared about whether or not Jerome was beaten to death in this empty hallway. Lowering his arms slowly, Jerome caught sight of the shorter boy's own hand enclosed around the bully's fist, seemingly keeping it stationary to prevent it from slamming into Jerome's cowering form.

"And who are you?" The bully asked teasingly, grinning down at the kid who was still standing in front of Jerome.

The boy shoved the bully's arm back, and Jerome was surprised when the large boy stumbled from the force the kid had used. "Mitchell Hughes, though you can call me the new gym teacher's son."

For the second time since the encounter had begun, the bully's eyes widened substantially. He sent a slightly terrified glance at Mitchell before turning tail and running. Jerome shrank back slightly when the kid, Mitchell, turned to him. Mitchell seemed to notice his unease and gave him a wide grin.

"We'd better find somewhere to hide out, that dumbass is going to figure out that there isn't even a gym teacher with the last name 'Hughes' before too long," Mitchell laughed, then grinned at Jerome and held out his hand. "Mitchell, though I'd appreciate it if you would call me Mitch, I don't particularly care for my full name."

Jerome stared for a second before hesitantly reaching out and shaking Mitch's hand. "Jerome Aceti, though I'd appreciate it if you would call me Jerome, I don't particularly care for my full name."

Mitch laughed again, leading Jerome into a classroom down the hall that was open, something that Jerome wished he had noticed earlier. Sure enough, about a minute after they had closed the door behind them, they heard the boy Mitch had duped stomping back down the hallway, cursing furiously and loudly.

Mitch was snickering, but stopped as Jerome turned to him. "You didn't have to stand up for me…" Jerome murmured, "You're going to have a bad reputation now…"

Mitch smiled at him. "You see, that's the thing, I'm the new kid, I would've had a bad rep anyways. Plus, I couldn't just let him beat you to a pulp. Is there a reason he was trying to beat you to a pulp, by the way?"

Jerome's eyes darted to the side. He cleared his throat, "So, uhm, where did you live before you moved here?" Jerome was grasping at straws, trying to change the subject so that he wouldn't have to tell Mitch that he was color blind. Then he'd lose his one and only kind-of friend, and he didn't want that to happen.

Mitch frowned slightly, "Answer my question and I'll answer yours?" He offered.

"I'm colorblind," Jerome blurted out. Might as well get the heartbreak over with, right?

Mitch's brows furrowed. "Okay? I asked why he was about to beat you up, though."

Jerome stared at Mitch incredulously. "Th-That was why he was about to beat me up. I get bullied because the other kids think that I'm too stupid to see color, that's how it's always been."

"Those kids are dumbasses, then," Mitch declared, "They need to learn that they shouldn't make fun of you for something you can't change about yourself." A smile. "Don't worry, Biggums, I've got you covered. Those assholes won't be bothering you anymore."

And what could Jerome do besides give Mitch the most grateful smile that he had ever given anyone? Nobody had ever stood up for him. Nobody had ever offered to be his buddy. Nobody had ever promised to protect him. "Thank you…"

"Anytime, Biggums."

"Mitch?"

"Yeah?"

"You never answered my question…"

A laugh.

Yeah… Jerome could get used to this.


End file.
